


Some Kind of Awakening

by berava



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Fixation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berava/pseuds/berava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody has that one thing that will get them going no matter what. Sometimes that thing is mouths, and that's ok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind of Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't serious enough for a proper summary. I felt like exploring oral fixation, Kankurou just got in the way.

A common assumption about him was that he was weird. He understood perfectly where it came from: that the guy in theatrical face paint carting around a man-sized, weaponized marionette must be pretty out there in his interests and inclinations. And, in some regards, he definitely was. He was somewhat enamoured with the traditional side of performance warfare, and his extensive knowledge and collection of toxins was, perhaps, a little extreme. The fact that he could ramble endlessly on about engineering and physics—not necessarily about his own understanding, just that he found it so damn interesting—might possibly suggest an intensity to his hobbies that other people would spend in more useful parts of their lives. But the assumption extended to more personal places, as he got older and more active in social groups.  
Bondage was the thing that people pinned on him the most. How he must love to restrain and control people during sex, like puppets he could stick his dick into. As soon as someone had made the comparison between his hypothetical lover and his puppets, he'd lost a great deal of interest in the conversation. That was the tamest of the suggestions. They got more and more bizarre and obscure the more he resisted telling anybody what he was interested in. Because he was weird, his hobbies were weird, and his sex must be extra weird.  
Truthfully, he'd never had much of a chance to fully recognize his own sexuality. A great deal of his time was spent working with Gaara, focusing on supporting his brother on his endeavour as Kazekage. Then war came, followed by recovery, until romance and all related activities were nowhere on his radar. He didn't lie around fantasizing in his free time, he was losing sleep in order to strengthen his weapons and his knowledge and taking in every little thing that he could absorb in order to be better, for his village and for his Kazekage. For all intents and purposes, when it came to that he was the most regular person he knew. He thought.  
Sitting in the shade of an umbrella opened wide over a small, round table outside of a sweet shop, Kankurou was silently trying to gauge himself on the weirdness scale. Did this fall above or below bondage? The weather near the border of the Land of Fire was pleasant and mild, far cooler than he was accustomed too, but he was uncomfortably, unfortunately warm.  
“Mmm.”  
A small, round sweet was held lightly between his companion's fingers, pressed to his mouth briefly before his tongue rolled out, brushing across parted lips to scoop it out of sight. He sucked on it, savoured it, licked the remnants of its taste off his bottom lip and showed just a flash of sharply pointed canines before he went back to smiling serenely. Kankurou stared with a chocolate slowly melting in his hand, bewildered and confused and more than a little bit flustered. Who ate like that? Who noticed somebody eating like that? Who noticed someone eating at all?  
“You gonna eat that, man?”  
“Hm?” Kankurou blinked, pulling his gaze away from Kiba's thin-lipped mouth—just a touch darker than his skin, wet from where he'd licked them, never quite able to contain his two elongated teeth... A shiver passed down his body, to his stomach.  
“The chocolate. It's getting nasty in your hand.”  
Kankurou grunted and shook it back onto the fancy wrapper, thankful that the heat of his embarrassed blush would struggle to show on his sun-baked face. Almost immediately Kiba had scooped it up with a wide grin and eaten it. Any argument Kankurou may have had was lost, however, in the quiet noise he made as he watched Kiba suck melted chocolate off his fingers and lick them for good measure. He noticed, in agonizing detail, the way each digit slid in and out of sight, how Kiba used just the tip of his tongue, the way his fingers dragged on his lower lip as he smoothly transitioned into resting his chin in his palm. Kiba smiled wide, lifting the sharp, red tattoos on his cheeks and happily narrowing his eyes. He was trying to look cheeky, he just looked like he was ready to be kissed.  
“Oh, please, have it,” Kankurou said dryly, smothering his confusing emotions the only way he knew how. “You must be starving.”  
Kiba gave a pointed look to the empty bag lying on its side, having very briefly held what he'd bought from the shop. Kankurou glanced at it too, but couldn't think of any further quip past his scrambling to understand what had just happened to him.  
He'd always noticed a person's mouth first. It could give away a lot if you knew what to look for in the way it sat. Next to a person's eyes, it was the best tell anybody had. But he'd never looked at the eyes first, always the mouth. When he wasn't on guard, his focus would be pulled towards those who smiled a lot, snarled a lot, showed the most teeth; those who licked, sucked, or pulled on their lips. Every now and then, something would stir behind his bellybutton, but he took it for an anxious reaction to their behaviour. Not so hard to believe when he was so used to being anxious.  
This, however, he couldn't pass off so easily. Not when he glanced down at his own fingers and wanted to put them in Kiba's mouth. Put them in his mouth? He noticeably grimaced, corners of his mouth pulled back tight and nose scrunched up.  
“Did you want to travel the rest of the way together?” Kiba asked suddenly and sheepishly, head ducking in a manner reminiscent of a wary dog. But he was grinning, eyebrows raised and expression eager. “It's always more fun with someone to talk to.”  
Kankurou took a moment to bring himself back around to reality, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he turned over his options.  
He'd been given leave to go visit Temari during one of her extended visits to Konoha. Kiba, on his way back from a mission tracking down a wayward delivery caravan, had found Kankurou on the road and badgered him into sitting down to eat. They'd sat, Kiba had eaten, and Kankurou had pined over the way his mouth must have felt. Travelling together would mean taking up accommodations together, opening up the potential for more awkward oral fascinations. For the life of him he didn't know whether he desperately wanted that or wanted to avoid it. But he shrugged a shoulder and nodded. Kiba gave a small cheer.  
“If we leave now we should come up on the nearest town before it gets dark,” Kiba didn't wait for Kankurou's answer, sliding out of his seat and calling for Akamaru to return from where he languished in the grass beside the road.  
Scooping up his bag of chocolates, Kankurou went to lick his own fingers clean and was overcome by a flush of embarrassment, choosing instead to wipe them with a napkin and, after stashing the chocolate in his bag, stuffed his hands as deep into his pockets as he could. Up ahead, Kiba shouted.  
“First thing I'm doing when we get there is finding us a barbecue joint!”

Kankurou's standing had afforded them a rather comfortable guest house to stay in, instead of the single room in the heart of town that Kiba had expected. They each had a room, and large windows let the refreshing night air wash in on gentle drafts. Something for which Kankurou was very grateful.  
It seemed Kiba was just as physically friendly as he'd been when he was younger, feeling the need to sit sideways on the couch to talk to Kankurou, legs crossed and knees pressed to Kankurou's leg and hip respectively.  
“So everybody back home just has such a hard time understanding why Hana would take over as head of the family instead of me, but it makes sense, right? She's oldest. My Ma ran the family, so Hana doing it just makes sense,” Kiba paused to scoff, straightening his back and gesturing to himself, “Besides, I can't run the clan and the village. Even the greatest men have limits.”  
Kankurou smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded and brows raised as he tried his best not to laugh and potentially insult the excitable Inuzuka.  
“She'd be better at it than me, anyway. She's a smart cookie. I'm more like that cookie that got baked too big and you only eat it when your life is off the rails and you've stopped caring.”  
“That made no sense at all,” Kankurou muttered, putting his arm on the back of the couch and resting his cheek in his hand, grinning. Kiba eyed him, smile in place but his expression turning curious.  
“I usually don't when I'm trying to be funny,” Kiba laughed, the expression gone before Kankurou could figure out what it meant.  
“You smile crooked,” Kiba said suddenly, looking down at his hands and chewing on his lip. Kankurou blinked, smile gone in an instant as his hand slid further down to partially cover his mouth. When Kiba glanced up and saw, he started waving his hands and stammering.  
“Sorry, that came out so rude! I'm bad at this,” he laughed loudly and nervously, both hands raking through his already unruly hair and making it stand on end. “I don't really do this.”  
“Do what?” Kankurou grumbled from behind the heel of his hand, face heated and eyes narrowed.  
“Flirt.”  
A long second passed between them, Kankurou's brows drawing low as he tried to wrap his head around that single word. He mouthed it silently first, then said it out loud as a bemused question. Kiba gave his head a quick nod, watching Kankurou with wide and expectant eyes.  
“That's how you flirt?” Kankurou sat up straighter and continued before the younger man answered, “Why are you flirting?”  
“You don't want me to?” Kiba looked genuinely confused, gripping his ankles and shifting his weight away from Kankurou uncertainly, “I thought you did.”  
Kankurou's stomach exploded into nervous fluttering, a feeling he tried and failed to repress by breathing deep and tugging on his earlobe. He didn't know what to say, but Kiba saved him the trouble.  
“When we stopped at the sweet store, you smelt like you were interested in me.”  
“Don't smell me,” Kankurou said defensively, heart thundering in his chest as he tried to be as casual as he could in getting to his feet, “It's... weird.”  
“Was I wrong?” Kiba was on edge now too, though likely due to Kankurou's snappy tone more than anything. He seemed comfortable admitting his intentions, but was put off by Kankurou's attitude.  
“I just said don't smell me,” Kankurou crossed his arms over his chest, “And I don't really know what I wanted back then.”  
Silence pressed in on them again, with Kiba cocking his head and regarding Kankurou through shrewd eyes. Finally, he shifted further down the couch until he grab the tie around Kankurou's waist and pull him over to stand between his knees.  
“What..?” Kankurou swallowed heavily as he looked down at Kiba, marvelling at the way the other boy stared up with a sweet smile and an unusual shyness. Wordlessly, Kiba took up Kankurou's hand and pressed it gently to his mouth, lasciviously pulling one, then two into his mouth and taking his time in stroking them with his tongue. Kankurou's groan slipped out before he knew it was coming.  
Slowly, deliberately, he slid them free of his lips and kissed his way across Kankurou's hand and down his wrist, his mouth softly following the path of Kankurou's veins barely visible beneath skin that burned with every light touch. Suddenly, in the crook of Kankurou's elbow, Kiba bit down and earned a breathy moan for his efforts.  
It was just as Kankurou's blood began to run hot that he found himself no longer in the common area of the guest house, and instead in his borrowed bed with blankets tangled around his legs and pajama pants obviously tented. Groggy arousal turned quickly to irritation, head falling back into the pillows as he wondered tiredly whether he should try and return to the dream or deal with the problem at hand.  
Thinking about the dream, however, answered the question for him. Calloused fingers brushed down his stomach and found their way beneath the hem of his pants, stroking up the length of his dick to try and imitate the desperately craved caress of Kiba's hot, soft tongue, and wrapping tight around it in place of hungry, enraptured sucking that he imagined.  
The nails of his free hand dug into his thigh, wishing they could leave a trail of bite marks and bruises, their hot ache soothed by loving kisses. His thumb worked at the head of his cock to coax out a quick orgasm, one that lifted his hips from the mattress and wanted so badly to make him cry out that he had to turn his head and pull his pillow over his face to smother the sound. The mess was confined to the loose cotton of his pants, but even with that minor discomfort he felt his energy so quickly sapped that he easily dozed off again.

On the couch, curled up in one corner with a bowl of cereal cradled in his hand, Kiba traced slow circles in the milk with his spoon and chewed furiously on his lower lip. He'd been up early to enjoy the sunrise with Akamaru, as he always did, and had only just sat down to eat his breakfast when the overwhelming scent of arousal had hit him like a hood pulled over his head. It had reached its height by five minutes in, then languidly faded immediately, but Kiba had been a man long enough to know what had taken place.  
He knew his face was glowing red, and would only get worse the moment he laid eyes on Kankurou again. But that would be a problem for later; for now he could only resolve himself to let his sense of smell slacken every now and then.


End file.
